


Your True Self

by WellDoneBeca



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2018 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Knife Kink, Knife Play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, fear kink, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 13:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellDoneBeca/pseuds/WellDoneBeca
Summary: You wake up chained to the wall, naked and scared, just to find out Ketch was the one to put you there. He could never hurt you, could he?





	Your True Self

You tried to control your breathing and the tears falling on your cheeks but didn’t come close to succeeding. You didn’t know where you were or how’d ended up there. The room was dark, pitch black, and no sounds beyond your own could be heard.

A shiver ran your body and you suddenly realised you were naked, and your body just shook harder. Sam and Dean were nowhere to be found, and you wondered if they knew where you were now.

Your heart raced even more when you heard steps closer and closer to you, and you shut you were when a light right in front of your face was turned on.

“You’re awake,” you heard, just to look up and find Ketch staring at you.

You felt a bit of relief. You and Ketch had a weird relationship, with some flirting, and you trusted him  _at_ least not to kill you.

_Right?_

“Thank God,” you hissed. “I woke up in this place, I don’t know…”

He arched an eyebrow at you, and you fell into silence.

He was the one that had chained you.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He wouldn’t hurt you, would him?

“You sound very brave for someone who is chained and naked.”

You growled, struggling within your bounds.

“Get me out of here,” you tried to move closer to him, feeling your legs as bounded as your wrists. “Let me out here. Let me out!”

But he just stared at you, tilting his head to the side and smirking.

“I would stop if I were you,” he walked away. “It won’t work and you might get hurt.”

You swallowed down a big gulp of saliva and fear, and he walked back to your field of vision, this time pushing a tray and with a suitcase.

“What are you gonna do, read me a lawsuit?”

Ketch smirked and, methodically, opened the suitcase and took a folded clothe from inside it, laying it on the table before spreading it. Only then _,_ you saw exactly what he was hiding.

The knives were shiny and impeccably clean, and looked sharp enough to cut through skin swiftly.

You always had something for knives. A sort of… Who knows, a crush? A kink? You loved them.

You had your own collection, guarded safely in your room in the bunker, always sharp and ready. Some were delicate, and others absolutely scary, but you always had at least one with you.

_But not today._

“I see that I have your full attention now,” Ketch noticed, glancing at you and picking one piece for a moment, playing with it in his elegant fingers. “You really like those, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer, looking away when your body shook softly, both from fear and  _something else._

“I know you do,” he walked in your direction, the pointy knife’s form clearer under the light, and you almost smell the black leather handle. It was beautiful. “I have my sources.”

He approached you even more, and his face now was inches away from yours. His eyes, dilated, dug into yours at the same moment the point of the knife touched your stomach very softly.

“I just wondered  _how much_ you actually like them.”

Ketch pressed the knife against your stomach and you held your breath.

You did enjoy it more than you should, that was true, and that seemed to please Ketch a whole hell lot.

“It’s so...” he licked his lips. “Interesting. You pretend you don’t like it, but you enjoy this so much.”

You breathed very softly, afraid any harsh movement would make it penetrate your skin.

“But you don’t like blood, though,” he reminded himself, moving the blade up and circling your nipple with it, making you gasp. “Right?”

Ketch didn’t wait for your response.

“You love being helpless,” he moved his free hand to your lower stomach, tracing a low finger down until his fingers stopped inches before your folds. “Do you want me to guess how wet you are just from this?”

You bit your lip, staring into his eyes in anger and fear, and most of all, desire.

“You’re dripping,” he affirmed, his fingers still away from you. “Aren’t you?”

You didn’t say a word, and his hand lowered down all the way to your folds, and when his fingertips brushed against your wet cunt, he let out a low moan.

“Exactly as I thought.” he walked away, and you let out a whine. “Oh, darling, don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

You stared in his direction as he put the knife back in place, picking one with a bigger handle and pointing at you for a moment, and your breath got caught in your throat. It looked sharper than the previous one.

“Now,” he turned the blade around, holding it by the metal and pointing the leather cable at you. “I have a thing I want to test with you.”

Ketch walked to you and you looked down in time to see it sliding down your stomach to your thighs, and then up to your pussy before rubbing it against your sensitive skin. You gasped and moaned instantly.

“Oh, yes,” he hummed. “Do you think you can get off only on that, darling?” he questioned, making slow circled with it against your clit, and you closed your eyes with your mouth hanging open.

It had been so long since you’ve let go and since you had more than quick sex before running back to the boys.

You needed this. 

You needed  _him._

“Please,” you whispered.

“I can’t hear you,” he frowned, pressing harder against your clit. “Speak louder.”

“Please,” you moaned. You were already on the edge, from all his talk and play, and everything he was making you feel. “Please, Arthur.”

He licked his lips, and moved in tighter and faster circles around your clit, quickly moving his free hand to your neck and squeezing it just enough while pushing you against the wall.

“Those Winchesters…” he stared down at the handle rubbing you. “They don’t know you. They don’t know who you really are. They don’t see who you really are.”

You only moaned, too lost to say any words.

“Arthur,” you moaned. “Oh, my… Arthur.”

“But I do,” he growled. “I’m the only one who truly sees you. The only one who can look in this pretty face while you do things no one ever thought you would do. The only one that has ever met your true self.”

Your hips moved without your consent, looking for more friction while heat concentrated on your cunt, hunger and need blurring your vision and mind. You could almost feel your orgasm, and your legs were already shaking in expectation.

But then, he stopped and walking away.

Ketch was flustered, blushing and sweating in his suit, but it didn’t affect his posture at all. In mere minutes, he freed you from the chains, catching you before you could fall down. Before you could move in his grip, he had on your knees in front of him, his naked cock now pressed against your ass, and you felt the knife pressed on your neck the same moment he penetrated you.

“Fuck,” he growled, and you pressed your back against his chest as he started fucking you roughly. “ _Fucking wet_.”

You closed your eyes, and his hand fell on your clit quickly, his skilful fingers bringing you close to the edge again.

“Mine,” he growled. “Say it.”

“Arthur,” you cried out.

“Say you’re mine,” he growled in your era. “ _Say it._ ”

“I’m yours,” you let out. “I’m yours.”

Your orgasm hit you like a train, and you didn’t know if you were moaning or falling into silence while you came, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. As soon as you came down, he threw the knife away and turned you around, catching your lips in a hungry kiss.

“Fucking  _mine_.”


End file.
